


A Thousand Words

by SunriseAshes



Category: Final Fantasy X-2
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-13
Updated: 2012-12-13
Packaged: 2017-11-21 01:32:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/591928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunriseAshes/pseuds/SunriseAshes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>War might have been the backdrop to their story, but the tragedy rises from their devotion to each other. He would do anything to protect her from the horror of the front-lines. She would stop at nothing to prevent him sacrificing his life on her behalf. In the end, they were each other's doom and each other's bane. After all, it was their love for one another that finally destroyed them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Hall of Forgetting

Shuyin ran fast down the street, dodging in and out of the dwindling crowds. Everyone was heading to the concert hall, and he was no exception. His heart pounded hard in his chest, not from exertion but from anticipation. To see her face again would be the highlight of his night, and to know she was his would be the cherry on top. He weaved in and out, making sure not to hurtle into anyone. Faces turned and shined up at him, everyone excited about this one beacon of light in a night of darkness.

The war had only just begun, but the casualties that Zanarkand had suffered were great, far greater than the ones that managed to land on their attacker, Bevelle. But tonight no one would be thinking about the fight, or their loved ones, or their lost ones. Tonight they would sit and watch a performance by one of the greatest songstresses Spira had ever produced, and they would forget. Every week Zanarkand looked for an escape. It was a shame a permanent one was harder to find than the temporary one.

A small boy stood in Shuyin's way as he rounded the next corner and spotted the stadium ahead, lights dotting the sidewalk dimly, so not to draw attention to itself. He clutched a Blitzball in his hands, staring down at it glumly as he trailed after his mother and sister. Shuyin sped around him, accidently knocking his arm as the kid moved in front of him.

"Hey mister!" the kid shouted angrily, turning around to face Shuyin. Shuyin had already scooped the ball back up and was in the process of handing it back to the kid, when the child's face lit up. "You're Shuyin, the best Blitzball player on the Zanarkand Abes! Hey, hey! Sign my ball for me."

Shuyin grabbed a pen from his back pocket, a necessity when you had fans all over the city, and scrawled his name across the ball. He smiled at the kid as he dropped it into his arms, watching the way the child carefully held it against his chest. "Take of that ball for me, kid."

"Will do Mister Shuyin!" the child called back, watching as Shuyin resumed his run to the stadium.

Shuyin knew the doors to the stadium would be closing in ten minutes, and he knew he was late, but he was determined that he wouldn't miss this concert. Lenne had arranged for him to be seated in the premium box, alongside other Blitzball players, fancy businessmen and their wives, and Zanarkands other celebrities. Not getting there in time was a thought that hadn't even crossed his mind.

The door loomed up ahead, with the last of the concert-goers handing their tickets over to the doormen. Shuyin grinned at one of them, who tapped his watch as he undid the rope that held back fans without premium tickets from climbing to the box. Shuyin mouthed a quick word of thanks, taking the stairs two at a time. He reached the box just as the supporting act were leaving the stage, attracting the eyes of all the other watchers. He ignored them, moving to the seat that had a resigned sign and a backstage pass on it. He hooked the pass around his neck, eyes glued to the floating platform in the middle of the stadium.

 _Thank God I made it_ , he thought to himself as he settled back. A second later, he was back on his feet, cheering and whistling more wildly than the fans below him.

A young woman stepped out on stage, and the crowd fell silent, all eyes eagerly waiting for her to start singing or dancing. The first notes of her newest song started floating around the still air, and she looked up, her wide brown eyes seeking out every face in the crowd, before settling on Shuyin's. He smiled widely, encouragingly, and she dipped her head back down. A whisper amplified around the stadium as she spoke into the microphone, her long brown hair shimmering as it fell around her face.

 _She looks so beautfiful_ , Shuyin thought as he watched her move across the stage, her purple dress billowing out behind her as she swiftly moved to the beat of the music.  _She's never looked more beautiful to me_ , he added. Cheers were beginning to rise again around the stadium, though they never matched the volume of her voice.

"Tell me what you want to hear and I'll say the words. Tell me what you want to feel and I'll play along," she sang, the crowd joining in when she reached the chorus. Sometimes Shuyin wished they wouldn't, so he could sit still and listen to her voice forever, but tonight he sang along too, out of tune but passionately. "Tell me what your heart desires and we're share the moments that you want," she continued.

She swayed in time to the music, walking forwards delicately because it was a slower song. "Tell me what you want to hear, and I'll say the words you need," her voice rose in pitch, the note climbing higher and higher, the sweetest sound that Shuyin had ever heard. Lenne spun as the song finished, her fingers holding the mike carefully as if it might break. Shuyin smiled as he recognised her summoner's dance, joining with her soft voice.

The song ended slowly, dimming out into nothing as the crowd jumped up and down and again, cheering and screaming. Lenne bowed a little, smiling nervously at her admirers as the musicians on stage with her began another song, a faster one. Shuyin leaned over the banister, reaching out as far as he could, and she turned to wave at him. He waved back, all arms and enthusiasm, before he fell back, a smile playing on his face.

Lenne's smile played on his mind, a sparkling picture that stood out above all else. His love for her burned brightly in his chest, consuming him until he could feel nothing else, not that he wanted to. He loved her more than life itself and would do anything for her.

Anything.

* * *

"You were beautiful tonight!" Shuyin exclaimed, spinning Lenne around her dressing-room. Her purple lips stretched in a soft smile that was all heart and no teeth. Her eyes were alight with pure pleasure as she leaned down to rest her head in the crook of Shuyin's neck. "A perfect performance. You really wowed them."

"So you liked it, my new song?" Lenne asked eagerly, adrenaline in her voice as she finally found her feet on the ground. Shuyin bent down to place a chaste kiss on her lips. "Tell me Shuyin," she cried impatiently. "Did you like my new song?"

"I loved it. I love everything you do Lenne, you don't have to ask," Shuyin replied, eyes glowing in the light. "The only thing that could have made it better was a dedication to me!"

"Ah, that ego of yours. How did I ever fall in love with it?" she asked, her voice light and teasing as they entwined their hands. They set off towards the dressing-room door, only for a figure to dart in and stand in their way, filling up the frame. Lenne froze, her eyes scanning the familiar figure as he moved in towards them.

"Where you going in such a hurry son?" the gruff voice was harsh and cold, eyes calculating as they took Shuyin in. He instinctively moved her behind him, appreciating the small hand that rested on his wrist; the one that was preventing him from pummeling his father on the spot. The old man watched the display with an amused smirk, eyes flickering between his son and his girlfriend.

"None of your business. And why are you even here? You shouldn't have been allowed in," Shuyin snapped back, eyes looking beyond his father for the security guard who was posted on Lenne's dressing-room door. He was no where to be seen, and this ignited a further spark of anger in Shuyin's chest. "Tell me what you want."

"Can't a father come and see his son without getting insulted?" the old man asked, moving into the light. It threw shadows under his eyes that elongated the permanent bruises he wore, and made his face look more worn than Shuyin had ever seen it. He felt no sympathy. The man had made his bed and he could rot in it for all Shuyin cared. "Since you asked, I'm fine, and it was the security guards who let me in. They're old fans of mine, and they knew I was related to Lenne's boyfriend," the last word was a sneer, and Lenne's hand tightened on Shuyin's wrist.

"You never come to see me for parental reasons, and I will tell the guards that next time I see them. They'll never let you in backstage again. Now what do you want? I don't want to stand here all night repeating myself, especially when you know I'm going to refuse you," Shuyin replied through gritted teeth, eyes trained on the old man like he was a fiend.

"I need some cash." The old man didn't beat around the bush, spitting out the request as if it were poison that burned him. Shuyin just stared at him in disgust, waiting for him to explain the circumstances, some last ditch attempt for pity. "I owe Java big time, and he's coming down to meet me tonight. If I don't have at least five hundred gil, he'll rip my face off. You wouldn't want that for your old man, would you son?"

"Sounds like they should get the money back by charging front row seats to your beating. I'd pay," Shuyin responded coldly. "Why is it that you only come and see me when you want some cash? You've never had any, even when you were at the top of your game as a Blitzer. Well, me and Mom never saw any of the cash. She worked herself to death covering for all your mistakes. In the end, her love for you killed her. So why do you think I'm going to help  _you_?"

The old man's face creased in anger as Shuyin spoke each word, deliberating over each of them to deliver a punch. "Because we're blood. Would you really rather see me dead than see me well?" Shuyin's expression told him the answer, and he clenched his fists. "Java'd be all over you if he knew I had a son with money. Show me some gratitude for keeping you out of this. Two hundred and fifty gil. Half the money."

"I bet that's not all you owe. I bet it's a deposit to save your wasted face from more damage. And if I pay you once, you'll want more. So here's an idea; get a job, old man, and pay him back yourself. Stop living off of me. That's what you used to tell me when I was a kid." Shuyin tugged at Lenne moving her around his father as if he were diseased.

"At least I'm not a crybaby," the man spat back, watching as Shuyin made to leave. "At least I'd fight for my city if I could. At least I'm not hiding in Zanarkand, playing Blitzball and living the high life. At least I don't let my girl fight for me, defend me!"

"If you're so much better than me, then why don't you prove yourself. Go sign up, and fight for the city you live in. Maybe then Java'd leave you alone. Maybe you'd die a hero, instead of wasting away like the loser you are," Shuyin shouted back, the anger bursting out of his chest like a fiery being.

"I don't need this," his father retorted, stalking past him and down the hallway. "Go back to your cushy life son, and enjoy your evening with the lovely Lenne. She's better than you deserve."

Shuyin stood perfectly still and watched his father exit the stadium through the fire door. He was trembling from the effort of holding himself back, and it was only Lenne's continued hold that was keeping him from finding his father and ripping him apart before Java even had a chance to. He looked down at her, taking in the worried expression that had creased her carefree face. Her brown eyes changed from fear to worry, and Shuyin pulled her into a tight hug.

"He won't bother us again, Lenne," he murmured. "I promise you I'll never let him bother you again."

* * *

Lenne watched the muscles in Shuyin's back flex and relax in turn as he moved about in their bathroom, his tan skin marked with scars and signs that told of his past as her guardian. He'd always stood by her side for the minute he'd met her, promising her protection and love and shelter all the while. He'd thrown himself in front of her more times than she cared to remember, and he was fiercely protective. If he knew that she'd been called up to fight on the front lines, she knew he'd lose the careful hold he had on his temper.

She loved Shuyin more than words could ever say, and she'd tried many times to tell Shuyin how she really felt. Her heart always seemed to race whenever she thought of him, closing her throat up when she tried to say those three little words, so she'd always sung about how she felt about him. It was indirect, and lacked the personal intimacy she wanted to have when she finally managed to say  _I love you_. It was always easier singing to thousands of people than it was talking to one, her emotions bursting out of her in a way the spoken words couldn't handle.

Shuyin walked into the bedroom, a towel wrapped around his waist as he surveyed her, concern glinting in his blue eyes. He always seemed to be worried about one thing or another, and with the war just beginning, Lenne could see why he saw danger in every shadow and around every corner. It made her feel safe, being with him, but guilt tainted the security. It wasn't fair that he should constantly be on the alert for her, even though he would tell her that it didn't matter to him. Only she did.

"What's wrong Lenne?" he asked, immediately sensing the bleak mood that had wrapped around her. The concert had been a good distraction from the letter she'd received, but that was all it had been. Seeing it again on her dresser had brought back her fear in telling Shuyin. "Has someone hurt you?" he added, eyes flashing with a hint of rage.

"No. No one's hurt me. I'm just worried about the war. It's getting out of hand, and we're not on the winning side. Bevelle have so many machines backing their soldiers. I'm just scared, I guess." Maybe it was wrong of her to tell him she was scared. That would only reinforce his desire to keep her away from the fight, away from the front lines. "You can't pretend it doesn't worry you. I've seen it in your eyes."

He crossed the room, dripping rivulets of water down his chest, the drops landing on the carpet. Lenne gazed at the dark stains, seeing blood instead of water, shivers racking through her as she remembered fighting fiends on her pilgrimage. She was brought out of her thoughts when Shuyin dropped onto the bed beside her, an arm snaking out around her waist. She didn't mind that he was damp, she just craved the closeness.

"War isn't pretty, and everyone wants to forget it's going on. I forget myself that you don't. You want to know what's happening, because you care about people. You want to help them. But you have to understand that you  _are_  helping people Lenne, so you don't need to worry," Shuyin replied, his voice soft and reassuring. "It's what you do as a songstress. You sing and people forget, if only for a little while."

"I know that, but sometimes I want to do more." She paused, not sure how to progress. Shuyin was still, too still, and she didn't want to breach the storm that was swilling in his eyes. "Maybe I  _should_  be doing more. I am a summoner, after all, and though I trained in peaceful times, summoners  _are_  built for war. In a sense. I mean, we have the Fayth behind us. And within the Fayth are the aeons ... "

"Are you thinking about signing up to fight? I heard the call for more summoners too Lenne, don't think I haven't." Shuyin didn't sound angry, he just sounded weary. "But summoners are symbols of peace and healing. About trust, and about the bond between a living soul and a dying soul. It's a religion, and you don't  _need_  to fight."

"Not yet," countered Lenne, straightening up. "But it's getting to the point where the soldiers aren't enough. More mages are being called forward, and the summoners will be next on the list. I feel like I should be there, before it gets worse. Maybe I can help stem the flow, stop the Bevellians from getting closer to the city centre. The edges of the city are falling, one by one."

"What aren't you telling me Lenne?" Shuyin asked, startling her. "There's something you know, and it's been eating you up, but you haven't come outright and told me. I know it has something to do with the war. Let's get the worst over. Tell me the truth."

Lenne watched his expression, noting the creases in his forehead and the shadows under his eyes. He looked at her deeply, urging her on, and she swallowed back her fear. She needed to tell him, and more than that he  _wanted_  her to tell him. Once it was out, they could deal with it together. Lenne took a breath in.

"Shuyin, I do have something to tell you. And it is about the war." She hesitated, watching his expression carefully. It was safe to carry on, and the next words rushed out of her in a hurried breath. "I've been called up. I have to join the war."


	2. The Call of War

"I've been drafted into the war. The Elders are getting desperate, and they're drafting every young man of age. Every summoner, every mage. No one's being spared or given special treatment. It was only a matter of time, Shuyin. Volunteers aren't coming to the Elders anymore, not now they know what the war is really like. It's serious, and it's starting to show in the way they're sending out letters," Lenne whispered, her throat closing up from the tense words. Shuyin hadn't moved, hadn't even looked at her.

"I know that Lenne," he replied, voice tight and quiet. He didn't turn to see her, his eyes staring blankly at the wall opposite him. "I got a letter too. Yesterday. But I thought," he paused. Lenne didn't want to hear what he said next, afraid of what it might make her feel or want. "I was thinking of ways for us to get out of here. Get away from Zanarkand and the war. Away from Bevelle. To a small place that no one knows about. Like Besaid Island. Only a few people live there."

"Shuyin," she said softly. "We couldn't run away. Your honour wouldn't allow you to, your pride would suffer. Mine too. We're not cowards. And even if we did run, people would recognise us. You're a famous Blitzball player and I'm a famous songstress. We couldn't find a place hidden enough to stay protected. I won't leave, and you won't leave me."

Shuyin turned to look at Lenne, struck by the tone she was using. She never used that tone with anyone. She always tried her hardest to remain upbeat, even when she was feeling hurt or sadness herself. But this tone was subdued and weary. Reigned, even. It was a tone that didn't belong to her and her never ending optimism. It was too broken, and it caused him to stop staring at the wall and look at her. Her eyes were closed, and he knew it was because she couldn't bare to see the pain in his eyes.

Her eyes suddenly opened and looked at him so passionately that Shuyin felt his heart shatter into tiny pieces. They had widened, two brown eyes so doe-like that Shuyin could never imagine her in the middle of blood and fire and violence. She wasn't built for it; not physically and not emotionally. A tight anxiety began to claw its way out of his chest, and he knew it was reflected in his eyes. Lenne could see it too.

"Maybe they'd leave us well enough alone. The rest of Spira are only behind Bevelle because they're afraid that the city may turn on them too. Most of them are letting the Bevellians get on with the fight with no input at all. Maybe we could have been safe," he said, though his heart wasn't in it. Lenne wouldn't leave with him, and he wouldn't leave without her.

"Too many maybes, and not enough certainties. I know what I am certain of though. Zanarkand will lose this war without all of its summoners, mages, soldiers, and warriors behind it. And I'm not leaving them behind. And I know that you can't either. We'll come through this. We always come through the bad things. We just need to hang onto each other. The call is yours, Shuyin. I've made my mind up," Lenne murmured, her breath warm against Shuyin's cheek as she leaned in to kiss him.

 _The call is mine_ , he thought bitterly.  _Some call. Do or die._

He pulled away from Lenne's grip and got up, pacing across the room as she watched him. Her eyes were sad, and he knew it was because she missed him. He had been a different person for a long time, and he tried so hard to get back to being  _him_  again, but he couldn't. Every time news of fallen soldiers reached them, every time his father messed with them, every time the war edged closer to them, he lost his cheer and charm. He stopped pacing, watching as Lenne turned away, her eyes sparkling.

Shuyin grabbed his pajama bottoms and tugged them up, dropping the towel into a heap on the floor. No more freedom. No more Blitzball. No more walks through the city at moonlight. No more Lenne. He yanked a hand through his hair, tugging nervously at the knots as he thought of no more, forever. It was an incomprehensible thought. A bleak forever of nothing. His pulse sped. Death scared him, but not as much as forever without Lenne. Tears threatened to fall down his cheeks, and his father's words echoed in his head:  _At least I'm not a crybaby_.

"I can't stop you, can I?" he asked quietly, so quietly she could pretend that she didn't hear him and not answer. But she did. Lenne always answered him.

"No. But I don't want to talk about this anymore tonight. Let's go to bed, Shuyin. We can talk more in the morning. We have at least a week or two before we have to sign up. And you don't have to fight if you don't want to." Lenne's voice was broken, the sound jarring on a shard buried deep in Shuyin's chest. "We have a week before we have to separate."

Shuyin heard the unsaid,  _and I want to spend it with you, making good memories, happy memories, not sad memories or angry ones._  It was something that had occurred to him too. He didn't want to fight her anymore. He wanted to lay with her, for all eternity, and make sure nothing ever happened to her. But reality wasn't as kind, and all he could do in the end was climb into bed with her for one of the numbered times they had left.

He couldn't sleep that night, but even in the early hours of the morning he knew he wasn't the only one laying awake, as small sounds rose from Lenne's side of the bed.

* * *

 

Lenne had never wanted to pick between Shuyin and Spira. There had been times in her life where she had considered choosing between singing and summoning, but never times where she had considered choosing between Shuyin and her work. He was her life, and that was all there was to it. Sure, the singing and summoning had come first, but Shuyin had showed her what was important in life. He'd taught her how to love, and they'd connected so deeply that to be apart was to be in pain. So if she'd had to choose between the two things, she'd thought that she'd always be able to pick him.

War had changed that. Now it was impossible to pick him over the suffering that Zanarkand was enduring. Shuyin would pick her every day of the week, but he would always do what she wanted to do. And if that meant fighting, then he would run out to meet a million machina alongside her. She had seen betrayal in his eyes as she'd told him she wouldn't refuse the summons, and she'd died a little inside too. But it was the right thing to do. And she could never do what was wrong, even if it was better for her.

There was a high chance of death out on the front lines, which is exactly where the summoners were being sent. Soldiers were falling like dominoes, so now it was time for the big guns. Lenne paused, her hand held over her head as she stopped brushing her hair. She didn't want to be seen as a weapon, but she knew she was being seen as a last hope. If the summoners fell, Zanarkand would fall. The city might have been technologically advanced in living, but in defenses it put all its wealth into traditional methods, like magic.

Yes, the chances of surviving this war were slim. Very slim. Bevelle were just too strong and sly for Zanarkand; no matter what the Zanarkands did, the Bevellians did bigger and better. Their machina was too good, too advanced, too high in number. And that was why Lenne felt so bad about telling Shuyin. She knew that she wasn't coming back. And if he fought, he'd die too. And she'd asked him to fight. Her guilt twisted hard in her gut, making her retch, eyes stinging with tears.

Lenne resumed brushing her hair, staring at her flushed reflection. She had another show tonight, one of her last, as a nasty voice in her head pointed out. But she brushed that thought away, just as she brushed her hair. There was no need for melodramatics. What would come would come, regardless. She just had to be in the right mind to tackle it, head on.

Shuyin entered the bedroom behind her, and Lenne moved out of the way as he walked to the sink. He gave her a sad smile as he passed, which made her feel all the more worse about the situation they were in. He didn't speak as he turned the tap on, instead silently washing his face. Lenne just watched him, sat on the edge of the bath, memorising every detail of his back, his face, his body. She flushed bright pink when he suddenly turned and saw what she was doing.

"Hey," he smiled, a ghost of his usual charisma and cheek playing in his eyes. "I was thinking that maybe we should go out tonight. For a meal. We haven't gone out for a long time, and now seems like the perfect time. We can celebrate your new song in style."

"I would love that," Lenne said, breathless as she took in his eyes. He was being sincere, really trying hard for her. He knew these were the last days they could spend together. He didn't want to waste them. "I'll book a table for us, for later on tonight."

"I guess I'll see you later then. After your show," Shuyin replied, walking past her to the bedroom. Lenne watched as he dressed, a wistful longing building in her. "I'm going to be out all day, so I'll pick you up from the stadium. I love you."

He left the room quickly, letting the door shut behind him. A ghost of  _I love you too_  formed on Lenne's lips as she watched the door click shut, wishing for the hundredth time that she'd managed to say  _I love you_  back. She walked into the bedroom, digging her clothes out as she replied the three little words over and over:  _I love you ... I love you ... I love you_.

Why was it so hard to say those words when she meant them?

* * *

 

Lenne walked into the temple and climbed the steps slowly, one at a time with deliberation. She waved at people as she passed and stopped to sign the odd item or two. She was in no rush to tell the priests that she was thinking about staying behind. She knew what they would say. But she still had to try. She had to do this for Shuyin.

Eventually, Lenne was faced with the door she had been avoiding since she had received the news that all summoners were being urgently called up to serve in Zanarkand's forces. It seemed like a eternity before someone responded to her insistent knocking, her heart beating in time to the knocks. An old wrinkled face appeared at the door as it opened and smiled with recognition as his eyes met with Lenne's.

"Lenne," he croaked. "What can I do for you on this fine summer's morning?"

"I've come to request an urgent meeting with the Elder please," she said in a strong voice, calming down the tirade that had spread through her. Her body language was less confident, one hand clutching the other arm desperately, as she waited for her answer.

The face at the door frowned deeply. "Lenne you know that the council had been very busy lately, what with organsing new recruits and sending them out for training or to the front lines. You may well have to come back later. After the war later, if you understand what I mean." Lenne felt her heart drop as the old man went to shut the door behind him. She held out her hand, stopping his task.

"But this  _is_  concerning the war. I want to talk to the Elder  _about_  the war, not after it. Why would I have to wait so long?" she asked, confused as the old man smiled apologetically. He reopened the door, standing aside to let her in. Lenne ducked past, and stood in the hall, waiting for his answer.

"I'm so sorry Lenne. I thought you had come to approach us about a wedding ceremony. All such ceremonies have been postponed until after the war, although a lot of people are desperate to get married. Not surprising, seeing how badly it's going, if you don't mind my being brutally honest." He shooed her down the hallway, past the shrine and beyond to the door that led into the council meeting room.

"Why would you think that I came to discuss marriage?" Lenne asked as they waited outside the council room.

"We've all been waiting for the day that young man would propose to you, and the day you would come to the Elder to get your marriage ceremony arranged. We thought that with the ongoing war, you'd organise it," the old man replied, and Lenne saw in his eyes what she'd seen in Shuyin's, a belief that the summoners would not be coming back from the war alive.

"We believed there were more important things going on in the world than marriage. And our love is complete and known. We don't need a certificate or blessing to show that we're in love," Lenne replied, her cheeks hot. She'd had no idea that so many people had been talking about her and Shuyin's relationship. "Will I be able to see the Elder today?"

"Yes, yes. I'm sure Elder Khari will make time for you, especially concerning the war. He is in a meeting with Yevon at the moment." The old man's voice was hushed, and Lenne understood why. Yevon was Zanarkand's leader, the youngest they'd had. He was trying to lead the city as best he could, but with little experience, he relied on Elder Khari to help him make decisions. Lenne also knew it was Elder Khari's idea to send out summoners to fight. Yevon had wanted them to remain and defend the city.

"Yevon is with the Elder," she whispered back, in awe. He was like a celebrity among celebrities, a summoner who'd pilgrimaged in a short time. The shorter time a summoner took on their pilgrimage, the more in tune with the Fayth they were, the stronger they were. Fayth were religious members who sacrificed themselves to protect towns or villages from fiends, and to connect with one was a privilege that manifested in the form of an aeon. Lenne knew, because she had been on a pilgrimage herself, though not as quickly as Yevon.

"Yes. He is worried about sending  _all_ our summoners away to fight. He wants some to remain here, in Zanarkand - " Before the old man could finish the door opened and Yevon strode out. He paused momentarily, taking in Lenne and the old man, one by one. He nodded to both, before continuing down the hallway, followed by his protectors.

"You may enter now Lenne. I know why you are here, and it is time we talked about it," came the call of Elder Khari, which unnerved Lenne a little. She looked at her guide one last time, who nodded in encouragement. Lenne stepped forward, knowing it was now or never. The door shut behind her, leaving her facing the Council of Zanarkand.

When in the room, Lenne looked around at the other members of the council, to see if they knew what Khari was talking about, but they all seemed confused. None of them spoke to clarify why Lenne was there, all of them looking to their leader. He in turn watched Lenne, eyes misted with knowledge. She fidgeted under his gaze, the stare penetrating and all seeing. Before he had said a word, her cheeks were hot and red, embarrassment at her selfishness flooding through her. The levee had broken, he could see that.

"There are a great many people who have come and spoken to me these past few weeks, all of them asking the same thing of me. I did not expect to see you here, and yet I knew this moment would come. Do not be ashamed, child. You have done no wrong. Of all the people who has asked me your question, you are the one most deserving of it. You have done nothing but give to not only Zanarkand, but all of Spira. Why not ask for a moments reprieve? Go on child. Ask."

The Elder watched Lenne with measured eyes, and she took in a cooling breath, hands clasped behind her back. "I would like to have myself removed from the roster of eligible summoners for war. Along with Shuyin. I don't want to fight."

The council members didn't speak, though their expressions varied from shock to annoyance to disgust. No one was meant to be spared in this war, and now she was asking it of them. It was wrong, but it didn't feel wrong, which only made Lenne feel worse. She waited for the answer, knowing it, sensing it. She wanted to leave and forget about this crazy idea she'd had. She felt small and ashamed, guilt curdling in the back of her mouth as she thought of all the other people who had said goodbye to their loved ones, or lost them already in the fight.

"Do you not think that all those who have lost their lives already, all those who are leaving now to fight, and all those, like you, who have been summoned to war, did not have loved ones to leave behind? Everyone has someone of something to leave behind, something dear to them that they could never do without. But they still do, knowing that it is better to leave and fight for that loved one's future, than to stay and lose both futures," the Elder continued, not looking at his council members.

"I know all this, but - "

"If all of us had said  _but_ , wouldn't the war already have been lost? There are those who never hesitate to help people, who rush out unprepared to save loved ones and die. There are those who pause and think, scared of the consequences, and ask to stay. Then there are those who see everything before them in such clarity that they try for help, knowing they have to give it. You are one of the rare latter people. I'm sorry that I have to ask this of you Lenne. If anything, I would rather see you here singing and healing than out on the front lines. You are young and pure of heart, and bloodshed is something you should not have to see."

"I do understand all of this, but for once I wanted to try and put my heart's desire before my heart's understanding. I wanted to put  _m_ y loved one in front of everyone else's, because this is the first time I've ever  _had_  a loved one to choose. I'm a part of my own world, and I'm afraid it will shatter if I leave it. I want to protect Shuyin. I want to protect myself," Lenne replied, her eyes brimming with unshed tears as she looked on.

The Elder smiled sadly at her. "I know how you feel, Lenne, for I have loved and been loved. It is a pleasurable experience. But there is so much more to lose. If you stay, it could make the difference between a win or defeat. Surviving or dying. And then we would all lose. All of us would die. You are our strongest summoner, Lenne. We need you to lead the front line. To raise the moral of others. We can't have you staying behind to live happily with Shuyin, whilst the others leave to go and die. It wouldn't be fair. Understand this Lenne, I have a whole city to consider. I must send all those who can fight, for us to survive."

Lenne stood perfectly still, letting the expected words flow around her and sink into her mind. She knew that this was coming; it had all been a matter of at least  _trying_  for Shuyin and for their relationship. And now it was just a matter of finding the words to explain it to him. She had to make him understand that she  _was_  fighting for both of them. And she would fight for both of them, forever.

"I understand and accept the terms. I will fight as soon as my training is over. Thank you for listening to me Elder Khari." Lenne bowed her head respectfully towards each of the council members, before bowing out of the room backwards. The tears had gone, replaced by a hardened resolve to do the best for everyone. Distracted as she stepped outside, she ended up crashing into an elderly man on his way to the council room. "I'm so sorry," she stammered.

The tiny bespectacled man looked up, indignant at first until he recognised her. His face brightened in excitement. "Lady Lenne. Summoner of Zanarkand, and songstress too. What a joy it is to bump into you. Literally, as it seems! My oh my, this is pleasant. Think nothing of the accident. It's nothing a handshake can't solve! The name's Maechen!"

Lenne offered her hand to the old man, and he took it warmly, shaking her arm enthusiastically in long strokes. "Will you be at the concert tonight, Mister Maechen?" she asked politely as he stepped away, eyes gleaming in the dying light.

"Yes, yes! Wouldn't miss it for the world! I'll be there. I have to be going now, Lady Lenne, but good luck for your concert tonight. Not that you need it of course! Oh, and good luck when you go out to fight off those pesky Bevellians. We need people like you out on the front line! Strong, independent and kind. You'll keep moral up and keep an eye out for other people!" Maechen gave a swishing bow, before he hurried on down the hallway.

Lenne watched him go, a new bout of guilt swallowing her whole, along with fear as she finally realised there was no way out of this for her. She really was going to fight, and at nineteen, she'd never felt more scared and alone.

* * *

 

Shuyin walked through the near-empty streets of Central Zanarkand, kicking at litter as he moved. The streets looked so different in daylight, the lack of streetlights and colours uncomfortable. It was like daylight had washed out all the life and heart from Zanarkand, throwing open the truth of how destroyed the city really was. Shadows hid the scars that ran through the roads, but daylight left little room for hiding.

He kicked a stone angrily as he made his way to Market Square, angry that Lenne was so ready to give everything up and fight. He'd received summons too, but the thought of fighting had never crossed his mind. Instead, he'd made plans about escape, about freedom, about a place so untouched and unreachable that he and Lenne could live together happily, in peace. But there was never going to be any peace for them. There had never been any peace for them in the past, so why should it change now?

Even though he hadn't consciously thought about it, Shuyin knew where he was going to. Sure enough, his feet led him to cheapest bar in Zanarkand, owned by a rich Hypello, who spoke good English, knew good manners and knew how to run a bar well. Shuyin always came to this bar when he felt low, had snuck in numerous times when he was kid trying to get away from his father, and it was to him what a blanket was to a child. He never got drunk, only coming to the bar to seek out the happy atmosphere that was lacking in every other place in Zanarkand. If he couldn't get the cheer from Blitzball, than this was the next best place.

He shoved the door open with one hand, the other stuffed into his pocket. Eyes turned to look at him briefly, before the patriots returned to their drinks and conversations. Shuyin shuffled over to the bar, hunched up to attract as little attention as he could. He had noticed a group of soldiers in the corner, and they kept drawing his eye.

"Good afternoon Mister Shuyin. What can I get you?" asked the Hypello, Ptyi. He looked beadily at Shuyin's wallet, which he had pulled out as he sat down. "A drink, I presume," the Hypello continued, sensing Shuyin's bleak mood.

"Your strongest whiskey, but only the once. Don't let me buy any more than that," Shuyin replied miserably. "I trust you not to take advantage of my hospitality, Ptyi."

"I will not, Mister Shuyin. I will respect your wishes. Why so glum, though? Has something happened to Lady Lenne?" The Hypello had moved to his best bottle of whiskey, pouring out a short measure for Shuyin. He slid the glass over, watching the young man as he knocked the glass back in one.

"It depends on your definition of wrong. It's the damn war, is all. It's driving us all over the edge, like chocobos. We flock together, we die together. What else is there to do?" Shuyin answered, rolling the empty glass between his hands. "What are we to do?" he continued more quietly.

"My Mom and Pops got the call too," came another voice, from the end of the bar. Shuyin looked up to see a young man hunched over several different glasses and an empty bottle. "They were strong summoners back in the day, back when it was a summoner's job to pay respect to the sacrifices of average men and women. I bet they never saw this war coming. The council must be desperate if they're pulling out older summoners, though. It's not a good sign, if you ask me."

"And what about you?" Shuyin asked, taking in the boy's fit frame and age. "You must have been sent a letter too. You're of age to be drafted."

"I'm eighteen. I got the letter," he answered bitterly. "I've never wielded a sword in my life, yet they expect me to learn in two weeks. Then it's off to the front lines where I'll die, and then another eighteen year old will replace me. The cycle continues. We'll never win. We're not strong or big enough."

Shuyin stared off when the lad spoke, realising for the first time that other people were being affected by this fight too. The boy's parents were going, so he'd probably lose both at the same time, and he was being called up too, no experience in fighting, even with fiends. "I'm sorry," Shuyin whispered. "It hurts, doesn't it?"

The boy nodded, a tear dropping from his nose, into his glass of liquor. A pang of sympathy bit in Shuyin's chest, and he shuffled his bar stool nearer to the kid. The boy looked up, grey eyes widening in surprise and shame as he realised that Shuyin had caught him crying.

"What's your name?" Shuyin asked, watching him rub his eyes viciously.

"Dyven," the boy stuttered, cheeks flushed a hot pink colour. He was staring at Shuyin with admiration, and it took him a while to place why. He had been so lost in his grief that he had forgotten his own identity for a while. "My name is Dyven, sir."

"My name is Shuyin," he told Dyven unnecessarily. "And I've been drafted too. We could sign up together, you and me. I have experience as a guardian. I could help you learn to manage a sword. Or you might be better on grenades or other attacks. I could help you out. I need to distract myself."

"Who did you lose to the war?" Dyven asked, picking out grief in Shuyin's voice.

"Lenne has been called to serve the front lines, much like your parents, because she is a summoner." Shuyin was stiff and icy when he spoke of it, trying to get away from the fire in his chest that burned when he remembered Lenne's fate. "She has to leave soon, but I don't want her to. She's nineteen. Too gentle for war."

"Not the songstress!" Dyven said in horror, before his face hardened too. "And I understand your point. I don't get why they're sending out the most peaceful people in our city to the front lines. Summoners heal and pray and give hope. Destroying them in the good of Zanarkand won't help moral. It'll destroy it."

"I'm glad you see my point, Dyven. Really we should be surrendering and getting out of the hole we're in, but the Elder will never do that. Nor will Yevon. Both of them are too proud. So we're going to burn to death in the fires of Bevelle's machina. I wish there was an easy way out. A way to stop all of the pain and blood that is being spilled and lost. We need to stand against them," Shuyin said passionately, cracks running through the glass as he tightened his grip around it.

"There is no way out. Death is the only way. The easiest way to go. And then we would all be on the Farplanes, with our loved ones," Dyven muttered under his breath. Shuyin started at the boy's words, a desperate idea forming in his mind.

"Death," he murmured. "And then freedom. On the Farplanes. A reunion to remember!"

And a way to spare Lenne from the fire of war.


	3. One Last Dance

The stars shone brightly overhead as the busy people of Zanarkand rushed past below on the streets. The city lights had just been switched on, as the red sun disappeared behind Mt Gagazet. Its last dying rays had disappeared and the soft light of the lamps lit the rooftop restaurant. Several pyreflies dotted around on the horizon and quiet music played in the background. Any one visiting from outside of Spira would have never believed that it was a war-torn place.

Lenne and Shuyin were sat at a table in the corner of the restaurant, Lenne wearing a long, pale purple dress with her hair tied up loosely so that some stray hairs fell about her face. Her eyes were lined with make up and they glistened with joy as she listened to Shuyin talk about everything and anything. He himself looked completely different from usual, wearing a two piece suit. Lenne loved the fact that he always made an effort for her, always treating her as if she were the only woman in Spira.

"The stars look so much closer to the ground tonight," Lenne sighed as she stared beyond Shuyin to the darkening sky behind him. "And Mt Gagazet's song sounds much sweeter, as if the air is clearer. It sounds like a song of hope."

"I can't hear it," Shuyin said frowning. He turned around and looked at Spira's guardian in the distance. It jutted up into the sky like a scar, splitting Zanarkand off from the rest of Spira. It took a week's journey through the mountain to get to this side, and then another day or two to get down the mountain. It was the only thing that really held Bevelle back from them, though the troops were moving nearer. Shuyin shook the grim thought away, returning his gaze to Lenne.

"You will one day," Lenne replied. She played with a potato on her plate, sliding it from side to side. Even with her eyes downcast and her lips smoothed into one line, she looked happy and peaceful. The idea of her fighting in the front lines haunted Shuyin again, until he shook the thought away. He would not ruin this evening with awful ideas of the future. He would forget, for once, and enjoy his night with Lenne.

"How soon will I learn to hear the song of Gagazet?" he asked playfully, pouting like a small child as Lenne's eyes finally looked up to survey him. She smiled, and Shuyin felt the world disappear a little bit more, captivated by the way her eyes held only his. He wanted to stay this way forever, entwined with no one but her. The rest of the world could carry on, so long as he stayed with Lenne.

"You will hear the song when you learn to listen with your heart, and not your ears. Gagazet's song is not one of the physical world, but one of the spiritual. It would be too terrible a sound if it were heard by every man, woman and child in Spira. We would all weep, instead of love." Lenne broke off, her eyes mournful as she turned to watch the guardian in the distance. The sun had completely disappeared now, only midnight black spilling across the horizon.

"What great and wonderful wisdom you have bestowed on me, Lady Lenne." Shuyin's expression was full of jest and teasing, blue eyes ablaze as he pretended to bow down to Lenne. "Please, tell me more of the sorrow that our spirits bear. How can we carry such pain? Can we ever let it go?"

"Oh child, you will one day become the greatest thing that has ever happened to Spira. You will rise up and become a hero, a God, a deity." Lenne played Shuyin's game, taking on an grave tone.

"I thought I already was the greatest thing to have happened to Spira." Shuyin pouted, a wounded look on his face as the game ended. "I thought being the best Blitzball player made me God-like. Are you telling me that I was wrong, great and majestic Lenne?"

"Eventually everyone else in Spira will come to love you as hero, and not just me. You will do something great and prevent hope from every being completely lost. Because Blitzball is a great medium for giving hope," Lenne said, only half joking as she took in Shuyin's serious expression. There was something burning behind his eyes that made her feel a little nervous and worried. But he blinked, and then it was gone, replaced by the jovial glint that he usually carried. The look that she had fallen in love with. A flare of agony bit in her chest as she was once again reminded that she loved him, but never found the courage to tell him.

As Lenne ducked her gaze into her dinner, Shuyin fell pensive again. The thought of being a hero struck a chord in him. It reminded him of the conversation he had shared with the young man in the Hypello bar. Death seemed like the smoothest option to end the pain everyone was feeling, but what if there was another way. One sacrifice to save the person who meant the most to you. One sacrifice to end every single iota of pain in the world. One act that took it all away, and left it all intact. He twirled his pasta absentmindedly as his mind drifted to the mass drafting.

He stuffed the huge portion of pasta into his mouth, Lenne looking up in time to see the sauce dribbling down and around his mouth. He smirked at her from under the messy mask, and then spluttered as some of the food went down the wrong hole. Lenne leapt up to help him bring it back up, laughing lightly as waiters and customers alike turned to glare at the noisy couple. Eventually the coughs and chokes stopped, and Lenne returned to her seat like a naughty child. The heavy gazes of the more proper customers ebbed away as Lenne tried to stop giggling.

"I can't take you anywhere, can I?" she asked as Shuyin gulped down water.

"I can't take you anywhere actually," Shuyin managed to reply, tears dribbling from his eyes as he resumed breathing properly. "You're the one who attacked me. It was a vicious attack too!" He took another swig of water from his near-empty glass, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. He ignored Lenne's indignant look perfectly.

"I saved your life, you miserable swine!" she exclaimed, resisting the urge to kick him under the table as he continued to watch her with an innocent look on his face. "If I hadn't jumped up when I did, you would be on the floor, a nasty shade of purple."

The argument grew more ludicrous and loud as it went on, the insults becoming more immature until a waiter came over and asked them to be quiet for the sake of the other customers. As soon as the waiter turned his back, the pair collapsed into silent giggles, earning another disapproving glance from an elderly couple nearby. Shuyin couldn't quite shake the feeling that the reason they were gaining so many more dirty looks than other noisy couples was because Lenne was a summoner, and supposed to be an example to others. He quashed the anger though, focusing on their night out.

He stretched and stared up at the sky, counting the various stars and consolations, before closing his eyes. Lenne watched him, wishing not for the first time that she knew what he was thinking. His constant drop into thoughtfulness was worrying her; he was usually talkative and mischievous, and the quiet turns in him were always disorientating. Part of her feared that he was going to bring up the drafting, and she didn't want their evening to be overshadowed by something as dark as war. When Shuyin finally opened his eyes, she was relieved to find the happy, hopeful person she knew well, and not the angry, hurt one from the day before.

A new waiter walked over to them, placing two menus on the table, before bowing and heading to another couple who had called for the bill. Lenne picked up the menu, running her finger down the list of deserts that they had on offer.

"Pudding!" Shuyin said in mock horror as he watched her select one from the list. "After all that food we just ate. You'll ruin your figure! I can't be seen in public with a wobbly summoner!"

"Hey!" Lenne exclaimed. "You know I have a sweet tooth. That's why we picked this restaurant. I wanted to try their Triple Toffee Sundae. You can't take that right away from me."

"So how about we share one then," said Shuyin, and Lenne realised he had been playing her the whole time, building up to this declaration. He was romantic when he wanted to be, but he always hid it under tricks and banter. It was more than she ever managed to be, and she appreciated his attempts at sweet gestures.

"Oh, so that's your game," she replied. A smile settled on her face as she thought about the fun they could have with ice cream. "I'll share with you. But only with you, and only this once. You know how much I love my puddings!" She burst into laughter as Shuyin pulled a funny face, causing a waiter to come over to their table with an exasperated expression on his face.

"Please, please, please quiet down Lady Lenne. You're disturbing the other diners again, and I do not wish to ask you to leave," he paused, waiting for the jubilation to ebb from both Shuyin and Lenne's faces. Shuyin had frowned the moment the waiter had used Lenne's title, and his anger had caused her to stop laughing. "Are you ready to order, Lady Lenne?" the waiter asked, oblivious to the furious Shuyin.

"Yes," he said through gritted teeth. The expectant look on the waiter's face was more than impatience for the order; the way he looked at Lenne told Shuyin that this man expected Lenne to go on and do great things for Zanarkand, mainly lead the next assault. It made him angrier, but before he could say another word, Lenne spoke up.

"A Triple Toffee Sundae please, with two spoons. And coffee for afterwards. You can bring the bill with either. We'll be leaving for home soon," she answered politely. The waiter tipped his head forward respectfully, although Lenne could see he was disappointed that they weren't staying longer. Although they were being nuisances, they were both celebrities, and the staff here were drinking it up.

With a sigh, she turned to face Shuyin, expecting to calm him down. Instead, she found that he was distracted, preoccupied with something else that was going on in the corner of the room. She followed his gaze to find that it was on a couple who had just sat down after a dance. Even though no one else seemed to be getting up to dance, the musicians didn't relent, their music a soft, mournful sound that seemed to fill the night, though that soon gave way to a faster, happier beat.

"It seems a shame to waste the music, Lenne." Shuyin's voice interrupted Lenne's thoughts, bringing her back to the moment. He had risen to his feet while she had been distracted, and was now offering out a hand to her. A pink flush spread across her cheeks as he waited for her to reply. "Would you care to dance m'lady?" he asked.

She smiled softly, accepting his hand and letting him pull her to her feet. They weaved together through the tables and diners, making their way to the dance floor slowly, almost as if to savour the moment. Shuyin slipped his arm around Lenne's waist as they reached the floor, entwining his fingers in hers as he pulled her close. Lenne rested her spare hand on his shoulder and looked up at him, watching as the moonlight framed his golden head. He looked down, smiling back at her as he took the first step. Lenne followed suit, and they began to move across the dance floor, swaying in time to the music.

Lenne leaned into Shuyin as they moved, letting out a contented sigh. He led her across the floor and she focused on the music, listening to the story that it told her. It told of lovers and nights together, of play and fun, of happiness and peace. It built up and quietened down, it flowed through her, it emptied her. It moved her, saddened her, but most of all it filled her with hope. And as she moved with Shuyin, listening to his heartbeat mix with the strings of the band, she was struck with an idea of how she could tell Shuyin that she loved him, always had and always would.

The melody ended and Shuyin pulled back from Lenne, kissing her chastely on the lips. Lenne pressed harder against his solid frame, afraid that if she let go she would ruin the moment, and it would shatter like a shard of glass. When she did finally let go, she saw a proud figure towering over her, one that made a sudden jolt of fear course through her. Shuyin looked like he had made an important decision, and she feared it wouldn't end well for any of them. But that didn't last long, as Shuyin led her back to their table, where their sundae waited for them.

"Ice cream!" he exclaimed, grabbing one of the long spoons before Lenne had even sat down. He delved into the tall desert, scooping up one of the bigger chunks of toffee that were in it. Shaking her head, Lenne stuck her own spoon in, only to find Shuyin's face to face with her. A quick jab later, and she wore ice cream on her nose.

"Oi!" she said indignantly, before flicking some back at him. It splattered on his face and suit, the white in startling contrast with the grey of his jacket. A frown creased his features as he found some whipped cream and wiped it on Lenne. "That's not funny Shuyin," she mumbled in response, cleaning her face as she did so. "I want to eat this, not wear it!"

"Lady Lenne," came a quiet voice to the left of her, and she turned quickly, spraying more ice cream in the process. The waiter that had spoken looked annoyed as he raised his hand to his face. "Lady Lenne," he repeated, once Shuyin had finished snorting. "I'm afraid that I'm going to have to ask you to leave. The other customers don't approve of all the noise. They think it indecent considering the current circumstances, and they wish to dine in silence. Also, we do not approve of food fights." The waiter's eyes rested on Shuyin as he spoke, showing who he thought responsible.

Before Lenne could answer the waiter, two security guards appeared side by side, both of them wearing weapons visibly on their person. A quick nod, and both of them climbed to their feet. In unison, each guard took one of Shuyin's arms and half-dragged, half-carried him to the exit. It was all for show, Lenne knew, but it still made her angry enough that flames started to flicker around her fingers. She took a calming breath, letting the Black Magic take a backseat, before following Shuyin and the guards out of the restaurant. The staff were so desperate for them to leave that they forget to charge the tab.

"Don't think we'll be eating their any time soon," Shuyin muttered darkly as he straightened out his suit. The ice cream had smudged along it, and he looked disarray. They were both walking home now, hand in hand. "Completely rude and unnecessary. A war doesn't mean that fun should end. If anything, it should start."

"Hush," Lenne soothed. "I don't want to eat their again either. That place was too posh for me, and the staff kept looking down on my Shuyin. I can't go to a place that doesn't accept my Shuyin as he is."

Shuyin laughed and shoved Lenne gently to one side of the road. "Since when have I been  _your_  Shuyin?" he asked playfully, although a longing glint shone in his eyes.

"Always. Didn't I ever tell you that before?" Lenne replied, a note of pride in her voice. "I own the world and everything in it. I control it all too. But most importantly, I belong to you, and you belong to me. That will never change. It's an impossibility."

"Ah, I see. So if you're so mighty, that means you can lend me some Gil so I can get a drink from the next bar I see. Right?" Shuyin sidestepped Lenne's attack, catching her arms and putting them around his shoulders as they stopped in the road. "I guess that means no?"

"You'd be correct, servant boy. I want to go home, watch a movie and get the ice cream I never got to finish. And all of this has to be completed with  _my_ Shuyin in tow. No Shuyin, no show. And no show, means bad things will happen," Lenne retorted.

"I do owe you a pudding," Shuyin said thoughtfully, pretending to mull over the request. "Last one home's a Shoopuf!" he cried out, before turning and sprinting down the road, Lenne following right behind.

* * *

 

Shuyin tousled his hair with a towel as he came out from the bathroom, flicking the SphereVu on as he did so. He frowned as a news bulletin flashed up straight away, the words  _Breaking News_  in bright red text. He was no stranger to this happening, but it never got any easier. Each attack seemed closer and closer, the frequency jumping up with every passing day. But instead of turning the news off like he usually did, he turned up the volume and dropped onto the love-seat.

"News of another Bevellian attack on the outskirts of Zanarkand has been reported by an army official. We can also confirm that the sector has been closed down and shut off. Troops are being sent down in order to secure the border, although our source assures as that the area has been declared as neutral. Experts say that this could be another smokescreen to hide that this sector has been captured by the Bevellians, as happened five weeks ago in the Northern Outer Circle. Evacuations have been completed, and the death toll is said to stand in the thousands. Sao is reporting from the borderlines."

Sao - a tall, young man with flaming red hair - appeared on the screen in replacement of the female newsreader. The burning remains of the Easter Outer Circle was in clear view as the camera zoomed into the man's face, all that was left of that part of Zanarkand. Shuyin felt a pang of sympathy for the nervous man as he took in the carnage and wreckage around him.

"Early this morning army perimeters were breached as Bevellian soldiers sent in fiends. A deadly rampage then occurred in EOC, with families and soldiers alike falling to the swords of merciless Bevellians. It can be confirmed that Zanarkand is slowly becoming a smaller, more dangerous place as enemy troops force they way through perimeter after perimeter. All survivors of the attack have been offered shelter in Central Zanarkand, although most are seeking help from family members outside of Zanarkand. But with Mt Gagazet standing between them and safety, the chances of escape are slim to none.

As Zanarkand soldiers are sweeping all unchecked areas for more survivors, the people of the city are voicing their fears that all hope is lost and calling for surrender. With Yevon remaining silent in this debate, citizens are being backed further and further into the middle of a clear danger zone. But for the moment, our thoughts are with the Unsent and the families that have been chased from their homes. We can only - "

The young newsreader froze as a gunshot sounded off camera, his eyes widening in fear. Showing in the homes of thousands of men, women and children, Bevellian soldiers rushed forward and began firing blindly, striking all undefended persons. The SphereCam fell to the floor as the cameraman made a run for it, giving a clear view of the newsreader as he had his throat slit. In this distance the news crew made a run for it, but they were all eventually caught by enemy soldiers and killed on the spot. Eventually the screen went blank, before returning to the stunned newswoman.

"We have to end all of this now - " she was saying, before the whole show was cut. Shuyin dropped heavily onto the sofa, eyes glued to the flickering screen. He always tried to push down the thoughts of all the other victims in this war, hiding from the fact it wounded more than just him and Lenne, but every now and then his guard would drop and the guilt would crush him. The horrifying truth was in front of him.

 _People were dying_.

And the council wanted to send more innocent people out, destroy more families. How could they let Lenne go out there? How could  _he_  let Lenne go out there and fight? He had to get her away from Zanarkand. He had to make sure that the war didn't touch her in the way that it had every other citizen of Zanarkand, even if it meant running away from their city. He didn't care about his pride, not when Lenne was at stake.

Lenne walked into the room sleepily, rubbing her eyes with the backs of her hands. She looked stunning to Shuyin, even with her hair sticking up at the back and her pajama set crumpled. She smiled at Shuyin, quickly stifling the following yawn as she walked over to the kitchen counter. Shuyin didn't move or speak, watching her move around the cupboards, setting up the coffee machine and preparing a pancake mix. He imagined her a million miles away, in another place, doing the same chores without the threat of war hanging over her. He could almost envision the weight lifting from her shoulders, from both of their shoulders.

"You never told me what a wonderful morning it is," he called, resting back against the sofa lazily. The daydream vision still clung to him like air, and he siphoned the energy away to fuel his mood. "You just headed straight for the pancakes. At least I know where I stand now."

"If I hadn't have come over to make these, they never would have been done. You know that," Lenne replied with ease, running the batter around the hot pan. "Has the SphereVu gone on the blink again? It's not showing anything." Lenne paused at the counter, looking over to where Shuyin sat in front of the blank screen. "I hope you weren't watching anything important."

"No, nothing important." Shuyin shuffled over to make room for Lenne as she brought a plate of pancakes over. He nabbed one from the plate, earning a disapproving look from Lenne as she tried to shield the rest of her breakfast from him. "Just the same old chat shows that daytime usually brings about. Do you have any plans today?"

Lenne munched through a pancake slowly, making Shuyin feel like she was delaying something. "Well, I was going to the tactical meeting later. The Elders want all the summoners to meet in the Halls tonight to discuss how we will lead the attack. And when that was finished, I was going to try out some new material."

Lenne watched Shuyin closely to see how he would react, but his face remained neutral. "It's probably a good thing. You can tell me what the Elders plan for the summoners. It'd help ease my mind about you going out the the front lines. We need to start taking this war as a serious threat."

"Wh ... what?"

"I said ... "

"I heard what you said, but I don't believe it was you saying it. I thought you were anti-war, and anti me going to the front lines. What made you change your mind?" Lenne asked, her eyes briefly flickering to the SphereVu and its blank screen. "Or is this a Shuyin trick?"

"No trick. Just a need to be informed of the goings on of our city. We can't keep hiding from it forever." Shuyin stood up, downing the remaining coffee in Lenne's mug. "I'll see you later, after you're meeting with the Elders. I'm going for a training session with the team. Love you."

Lenne watched as the door clicked shut behind Shuyin, the faraway look in his eyes burned into her mind as she let her plate slide off her lap. She felt limp, like something had been drained out of her. The look in his eyes had frightened her, it didn't ring true with the words he had been saying. Something was bothering him, and she was going to find out what it was. But something about the way he seemed when he left made her worry.

"Please don't do anything stupid Shuyin," she whispered to the empty room.

* * *

 

Shuyin stood outside the block of offices, a crumpled piece of paper in one hand and an empty beer bottle in the other. He stared at it apprehensively, as íf the building might attack him. He teetered on the balls of his feet for one more second, before throwing the bottle into the bin. As he went to push the door open, another person burst out of it, letting the glass door slam against the wall. Shuyin sidestepped the onslaught, freezing when he recognised the figure.

"What are you doing here?" he growled.


	4. Modern Warheads

Shuyin glared at his father, his eyes never straying from the older man's. Both of them held their composure, their facial expressions giving absolutely nothing away as they weighed up the situation. Inside, Shuyin was torn into a turmoil, questions buzzing around the inside of his skull as he tried to figure out why his father was at the Military offices, and why he wore the official uniform of a Zanarkand solider. Something didn't sit right with him, and it made him feel uneasy.

Jachyt stared steadily back at his son, the strange mixture of guilt and resentment boiling in the pit of his stomach. The same feelings always stirred whenever he saw Shuyin, brought on by the knowledge that he could have done so much more for the boy, instead of boozing away his life and marriage after every Blitzball match. He'd never had the willpower to say no, and now there was nothing he could do to change the past. His son was no longer a boy, and all he had before him was a young man filled with hatred towards the father he'd never had.

"Are you going to tell me what you're doing here, or are you just going to continue wasting my time?" Shuyin snarled at his old man. There was nobody around to witness their dispute, though no one would have cared if they had been there to witness it. Too many other bigger problems on everyone's mind.

"None of your business why I'm here, same as it's none of my business why you're here. I could guess, and I bet that'd be as accurate as anything you choose to tell me," Jachyt retorted, his cheeks flushed in rage and embarrassment. "You're here to protect your little lover, to send yourself out in her place."

"You don't know me as well as you think you do," Shuyin hissed back. "I'm here because I've been drafted. I'm as opposed to the war as I've ever been."

"Yet you're going to sign up. It's because you're mushy at heart, a crybaby who is far too in touch with his own emotions. If you were a real man, you'd let Lenne fight for your freedom, while picking up a new girl to chase the time away," Jachyt turned away, unsurprised when a hand wrapped around his wrist. He was taken by surprise when a fist shot out to meet with his nose.

The crunching sound satisfied Shuyin deeply as he watched his father fall into the gravel, a stream of red spraying across the floor and down the man's new uniform. He clenched his fists together tightly, resisting the urge to continue pummelling the fallen man. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Shuyin turned towards the doorway to the Military Base of Operations. Pausing one last time, he faced his shocked father.

"Real men don't toss their partners to the curb the minute the going gets tough. They stay by their sides and defend them until their last breath. You wouldn't know that, because you're the weakest excuse for a man that I've ever had the misfortune to meet, let alone share genes with," Shuyin spat. "Lenne isn't a commodity. She isn't something to be thrown out to buy time. She's my lover, my friend and my soulmate. I will be the one to stand between her and death."

"There's a way to save Lenne without fighting, death or blood. I know the way. But you're too much of a coward to take it," Jachyt said through swollen lips. He spat blood onto the floor, the rest dribbling from his mouth as he tried to catch his breath. "It involves self-sacrifice, and although you have a lot of talk, there's not an ounce of skill in you to back it up."

"What the hell are you talking about, you crazy codger?"

"I'm talking about whispers I've heard, a weapon that the Bevellians created and now live in fear of. If any man got himself a hold of that machina, I'm pretty sure they'd be master of the world. They wouldn't even need to use it, just barter to the warring nations and get peace one way of the other. But that's beyond your capabilities. You're just a pretty face after all, and a poor Blitzball player."

Shuyin froze, the words of his father sinking in, although he knew that he shouldn't let them. It was a bad idea to trust anything that Jachyt said, but something in his words held Shuyin's attention. There were always rumours around about Bevelle and their engineers, people who were forever tinkering with metal and electricity and other elements in order to make life comfortable. Those people were in employment with Bevelle's military, helping them make deadly machina and weapons to wipe Zanarkand out.

About a week ago, Shuyin had gone to a local bar with his teammates. An old merchant had been ranting at the patriots upon Shuyin's arrival, scaring the other drinkers with his declarations the war was lost. His reasoning had been that Bevelle had finally finished their greatest machina ever, a machine so powerful it could wipe out a metropolis twice the size of Zanarkand in a heartbeat. A group of warriors had arrived promptly when called and no one had seen the old man since. The words had been old ones, but mixed with Jachyt's they held new meaning.

"How can you be so sure that this is what I want to hear? I might have made plans of my own," Shuyin replied, knowing he was taking the bait.

"I know that you want to save Lenne and stop her from going to the front lines, because I was there when she went to the Elder. I heard her asking for a meeting, knew that you'd asked her to refuse her summons. It was all too easy to piece together, knowing the sort of person you are in matters of the  _heart_. She wouldn't have told you she went though, because you're all for running and she's a girl of honour. How you two have made it this far is beyond me," Jachyt answered, a nasty grin spreading across his face as his words infected Shuyin.

Shuyin felt stunned. He hadn't wanted Lenne to go to the Elder. That would be a black mark against her skills as a summoner and her good-natured heart. Yes, he'd asked her not to go, but Shuyin had never thought that Lenne would involve the higher-ups in the matter. But of course she would, he chastised himself. She would want to do everything by the book, go through all the red-tape, ask for permission. She would never have been able to turn her back on Zanarkand entirely. The Fayth and summoners relied on sacrifices, he knew. It was the strongest magic in Spira, yet he'd believed Lenne could have one selfish moment to herself. He had been wrong.

"Lenne went to the Elder," he murmured to himself, the shock still radiating through his body. Words escaped him, and Shuyin stood alone in his thoughts, his reasons for being at the Military forgotten as he tortured himself. "She went to ask for freedom and respite. For me."

"I've joined the army," Jachyt announced, interrupting Shuyin's thoughts when it became clear the younger man would not speak. "That's why I'm here. I've gotten myself a job, just like you wanted, and it's an honourable one too. There are a lot of whispers going on in that building. Many secrets in all its hallways and rooms. You might find something out if you join too, instead of making a fool of yourself by screaming at them. You could learn of a way to save Lenne, hear more about that machina Bevelle is so afraid of. You could go out before her, so she never need leave Zanarkand."

"How do you know about this machina?" Shuyin asked suddenly, his suspicions about his father's moral core back to the forefront of his mind. "They wouldn't have let you know about something that important. What are you setting me up for?"

Jachyt shrugged. "Believe me, don't believe me. Doesn't really matter. I'm set now. I'm ready to do my part. Are you ready to do yours?"

The older man didn't wait for an answer, turning and heading down the empty street to the main city before Shuyin had a chance to get angry or ask more questions. Confused and angry, Shuyin turned to face the Military offices, his mind in two halves as he tried to make a hard decision.

Crossing the entrance was easy, as was walking over to the front desk. Telling the receptionist what he was there for was harder, and waiting for his moment of truth excruciating. All the while Shuyin thought about the machina so powerful its creators feared it. A new opponent in a harsh war, one that was strong enough to settle the differences between the nations and get them to come together. He could be the instigator, the catalyst, a force unto his own. If he got near that machina, would Bevelle be humble enough to ask Zanarkand for help?

That didn't matter. Trying did. If he never attempted the task, he would be no better than his father. He would be a weak man. And if Bevelle didn't ask Zanarkand for help, didn't settle the war without more bloodshed, then he would already be in the perfect position to take them down alone. He would be with their machina, their monster, and he would be able to destroy Bevelle. He would be at the enemy's heart, and Lenne need never leave the safety of their shared home.

He would have done his part.

"Are you Shuyin?"

The sound of his name stirred Shuyin from his morbid thoughts, and he looked up to find the face of a pretty female solider staring down at him. He stood up from the chair he'd taken refuge in, hastily offering a hand and a yes to the woman before him. She smiled grimly, leading him down a dark corridor and into a stuffy office. The guards patrolling the place didn't escape Shuyin's notice, and he pushed down his frustration.

"You received your letter on the - " the woman paused, flicking through notes as Shuyin stared longingly into the hallway. "Seventh day of the third semester. You are just within the five week time limit, therefore no fine or criminal record will be issued. No doubt you were waiting out the situation, seeing if it was going to clear up. Many young men and women are doing just that."

"Actually, I was busy with other matters," Shuyin retorted hotly. He had not intended to reply to the council at all, and the woman's know-it-all stare was irritating him more than his reluctant acceptance of the summons. "I am an efficient and skill swordsman. I have been in the warrior vocation far longer than the Blitzball one. I do not fear the enemy or death."

"An unwise position to take, if you ask me." The woman sniffed loudly, pulling out his record to spread his papers across the table. "You were Lady Lenne's guardian on her pilgrimage a while back. You had no formal training as a warrior  _or_  guardian, yet you were selected personally by the Lady herself. Her close friend, Norua, was the one who allowed this position to be made official. However, even without the certificates and references, you are listed in the top fifty swordsmen that Zanarkand has to offer."

Shuyin said nothing regarding this accolade, sitting stiffly in front of the woman as she scribbled down notes on a separate piece of parchment. She stamped it with wax and then signed it. When she rose out of her seat to collect a StillSphere, Shuyin glimpsed at some more private papers that sat in her tray. Blueprints and memos sat on the top, speaking of a secret movement around the shores of Zanarkand. The woman came back, a bored expression on her face as she took Shuyin's picture and slotted it in his application form.

"I heard we're losing because Bevelle have created a monster machina," Shuyin suddenly stated bluntly as she handed his form over. The woman paled and dropped his sheets, the papers fluttering across the room. Shuyin helped to collect them together again, using her distraction to plough on. "I mean, it's no secret that Bevelle are tech-manics. Is it true then? We're all condemned to death."

"Whatever you have heard is a lie," the woman said swiftly, regaining her composure. "Bevelle have higher numbers and slightly advanced weapons. They rely on guns, rockets and hand-bombs. They do not have an ounce of magic within their veins. This is why we will win the war."

She sounded as though she was reciting a well practised speech, a line given to the officials of their world to keep the citizens calm. She thrust Shuyin's papers into his arms and all but shoved him out of the door. He turned to see her dialling an Interface as the door slammed shut in his face. He had rattled her.

That wasn't what played on Shuyin's mind as he was bundled through different departments that day. No, what bothered him was that Zanarkand  _knew_  about this machina, this killing machine, and were not going to do anything about it.

Not a damn thing.

He looked around when he exited the office block later that afternoon, looking for some sign of his failure of a father. He hadn't stuck around to taunt Shuyin anymore, for which he was glad, yet a part of him wished the old man had given him more to go on. The machina sounded like the perfect playing chip. If he got to it, if he broke through Bevelle and actually got close enough to threaten them, he could save his home.

Inaction wasn't a strong enough demonstration of opposition. Shuyin could no longer do nothing and think that it would keep Lenne from getting hurt. This was just what he needed. A solo mission that ensured no one else got hurt or endangered. Shuyin smiled grimly as he left the offices, a dark and foreboding look in his eyes that was not his own.

It was startling.

* * *

 

Lenne screwed up the piece of paper she had just written on and threw it behind her in frustration. She didn't know why, but writing a song for Shuyin was much harder than it had ever been before. All the other times she had written a new song, the feelings would flow easily from ink to paper and would match the beat of her heart.

Behind her sat a pile of failed songs. Lenne sighed in annoyance and stood up, walking to the kitchen to return with food. She sat down hard, thinking about exactly what she wanted to tell Shuyin. Deciding it was better to wait for the right moment to let her feelings loose, Lenne turned on the SphereVu and settled back to watch the news with her lunch.

"The death toll for the city has just risen to a thousand," the newsreader was declaring grimly as she tuned in. "Nearly two thirds of these deaths are civilians from the outer reaches of Zanarkand. In the field, two hundred soldiers and warriors have fallen to the forces of Bevelle. The number rose drastically after this morning's brutal attack in the Eastern Outer Circle, where viewers this morning witnessed the deaths of our news crew."

Lenne listened in horror as the newswoman spoke of the attack in the outer provinces of Zanarkand, showing the aftermath through amateur video footage. It made her insides burn with fear and determination. She just  _had_  to fight for her city.

She jumped as the front door slammed shut and Shuyin walked into their living room. There was a strange look about him, as if a fierce determination of his own had been lit from somewhere deep inside him. He was carrying a tatty old bag that he hid from her view, and she wondered where he had been all morning. Shuyin didn't speak for a long moment, his eyes flitting about the room for a safe topic to bring up. Spotting the screwed up paper behind Lenne's head, he grinned.

"Decided to have a paper ball fight with yourself, did you?" he asked Lenne, leaning over the sofa to slip his arms around her.

"Of course. I always do," she smiled back, kissing him lightly on the cheek, before slipping free from his grasp and gathering the failed songs in her arms.

"I see these balls are not for my eyes, as always." Shuyin rolled onto the sofa, his hand still tightly wrapped around his bag. Lenne had no idea what it contained and wished she did. Maybe it would tell her why Shuyin looked so agitated. "You need some more space to work it out?"

"No. I'm done for the day," Lenne murmured softly.

Shuyin picked up her sandwich and took a hearty bite out of it.

"Oi," Lenne yelled indignantly. They wrestled until the sandwich landed on the floor, laying there completely forgotten. "How was your training session?" Lenne asked, suddenly remembering why Shuyin had gone out this morning. Seeing the lumpiness of the bag reassured her. It must contain his dirty uniform. What didn't reassure her was the guilty look that appeared on his face. It was gone soon, quickly replaced by sadness.

"Strange. The journey there was littered with homeless people I had never noticed before. I wish I had, then maybe I would have understood our city's suffering better. Maybe my heart will follow my eye's suit and open up. I'm certainly feeling things I've never felt before," Shuyin sighed deeply.

Lenne's heart almost broke in two as she looked at Shuyin and his helplessness. He seemed to be dejected and afraid. She had never seen his vulnerable side before, and it was scaring her more than she was willing to admit.

"I know."

They sat in silence for a long time, each thinking about their own problems and fears, unaware that they were feeling the same things.

"I'm going for a shower," Shuyin said when the moment became too strained. He got up and silently left the room, old kit bag in tow.

Lenne felt like crying. The war was slowly tearing them about. Times were changing for the whole city and she had a horrible feeling that Shuyin and herself were not meant to be part of the future. She didn't fully understand it, but a sense of dread had settled on her shoulders. This new world was not for them, but she could not imagine a place where they could go together. If she did, she would have taken Shuyin there in a second to end his pain.

She took a fresh piece of paper from her notebook, ready to try again. She would do this no matter what it took. Lenne closed her eyes and sat back, listening intently to the sounds of the city all around her. An hour later and she was no further along, but Shuyin was now out of the shower. Wanting to spend some time with him, Lenne got to her feet, only for Shuyin to walk out of their bedroom and to the door. Lenne froze by the sofa, watching as he fumbled with his key chain.

"Where are you going?" she asked nervously. He didn't have the ratty bag with him, which gave Lenne a sense of relief she couldn't explain. It was as though that bag was a bad omen.

"Just out."

Lenne felt a stab of hurt fill her chest. Shuyin always told her everything. Why was he hiding things now?

"Where is out?" she persisted, feeling childish and stupid.

"Don't worry yourself Lenne," Shuyin said with a genuine smile. "I'll be just fine."

As he turned to leave the house, Lenne knew that she didn't want him to leave. Not now, not ever. She had to stop him, or else she would never see him again. At least, that was what the small, mean voice in her head was telling her. She clenched her fists tightly.

"Please don't leave me Shuyin."

She knew deep down inside why he was going and until now she had been unable to face it.

"I'm only going for a while, Lenne. You'll see me again, sooner than you think."

"But I want to see you  _now_. I  _need_  you now, Shuyin."

Her childish insistences were making her feel ashamed. She wanted to cling to him, wrap her arms over his shoulders and come face to face with him, only inches separating their lips. She wanted to kiss him and tell him that she loved everything he was. She wanted to take all those missed moments and opportunities and live through them in that minute.

She couldn't bring herself to do anything.

"I'll come back," Shuyin whispered.

It was a quiet whisper, so quiet that Lenne almost missed it. It was as though Shuyin had deliberately said it quietly so that he wasn't entirely committing himself to his words, so that he wasn't going to break a promise. It was almost as if Shuyin was kidding himself into believing he would be back, when all facts told him he wouldn't.

"No! Shuyin  _don't_. Please. Please ... I ... I lo - "

Lenne was beside herself, but with anger. She was angry.

"You'll  _ruin_  everything!" she cried out.

Shuyin showed no anger or fear. He just looked sad.

Longingly sad.

"I will come back," he repeated with the same deathly quiet voice.

"No. No, you won't." Lenne broke off, her heart in her throat. Shuyin's eyes were glistening with unshed tears, and Lenne waited for him to repeat his reassurances, except he didn't. He just turned and opened the door, letting it click behind him softly. Lenne stayed put, her tears slowly rolling down her flushed cheeks. Her grief overwhelmed her and she threw the first thing her hand came into contact with. The china plate broke into a thousand tiny pieces, tinkering as they scattered across the floor.

Inspiration struck and Lenne reached for her notebook. She was going to fix things. This song would be the thing to fix things. It had to. She wrote all night, changing and tweaking lyrics here and there, picking out notes carefully to string together and form a tune. She wrote to fill the time spent waiting, because what she was really doing was waiting for the moment that Shuyin would walk through the door. When he did, she would give him the song. The moment was right. She would tell Shuyin that she loved him.

Lenne had almost uttered the words before, but she hadn't wanted them said out of desperation. She wanted to show Shuyin that she was stronger than that. That had been the wrong time. With a flourish, she added the finishing touches to the song, beaming when she sung it quietly to herself. It was perfect, the most beautiful song that she had ever created. She loved it and knew that Shuyin would too.

She stifled a yawn and leant back to check the time. Early morning. Seeing how late it had gotten frightened Lenne for a moment. How could Shuyin not be back? Was he staying somewhere else for the night? Had their fight been that serious? Lenne was scared that he really was gone, that she had chased him away. Another yawn came on stronger than the last, her eyes watering as she clapped a hand over her mouth.

Shivering from the cold, Lenne pulled her legs up to her chest and tugged the blanket off the sofa and around her arms. She blinked the tears away heavily, letting tiredness bite at her eyes for a change. She kept them glued upon the front door too, breathing deeply and steadily to control her nerves.

"He will come back," she said aloud. "He promised and Shuyin never breaks a promise."

Her voice echoed around the empty room and she sighed.

After another lonely hour, the blanket was no longer enough to keep her warm, yet Lenne was reluctant to stop watching the door. She rose from the sofa, only to return moments later with a duvet. She bundled herself up once more and collapsed into a warm heap.

"Is he really coming back?" a small voice said at the back of her mind. "I don't think he is. I think he's learnt to fight his battles alone."

"No, no, no!" Lenne muttered sleepily, but the fears wouldn't go away. Her tired mind eventually stopped the thoughts dead and allowed Lenne to fall into a dreamless sleep. In her hand was the song she had written, her fingers still clutching the inky paper. The title stood out the most,  _A Thousand Words_ , and its meaning was more poignant than even Lenne known, for she had unconsciously chosen the number a thousand after the death toll.

Mostly Lenne had intended it to stand for the thousand words she wished she had told Shuyin.


End file.
